


Nightly Shadows: Putting it on

by Flexor



Series: Nightly Shadows [4]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Back on the upswing, Overcoming setbacks, Private Thoughts, Yang's gonna be OK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9673499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flexor/pseuds/Flexor
Summary: Yang has been putting off putting on her Atlesian prosthetic arm, for reasons she does not like to talk about, or even think about. The thing that finally pushes her forward, is her love for her little sister, who is in a very dangerous place, without her father or her big sister to help her.These are the thoughts of that night.





	

Midnight on the Isle of Patch. The teachers Port and Oobleck had left. Dad had gone to bed after a brief "Good night, Sweetheart", and Yang sat on her bed, feet pulled up and her one remaining arm round her knees, staring into the dark.

The Thing was on her chest of drawers, softly reflecting the light of the crumbling Moon. Oobleck had asked her if she was ever going to put it on. Yang had been dreading the moment. Every time she saw it, she had thought about it, but every time she'd put it off. Still, she hadn't put it in a drawer, or somewhere else she could simply forget about it. She _would_ put it on some time. Just not right now. The time wasn't right yet.

Except for one thing.

As the teachers left, Yang had watched them through her window. Oobleck had been very clear to hear. He'd been asking after Ruby. Was there any news of her? Did Dad mean to go after her and bring her back home? Yang didn't hear what he said, but Dad had looked up at her window, and Yang had hidden away.

Ruby.

Ruby Rose.

Yang's little sister. So little, she was just a half-sister. Yang had forgotten if that was a Dad joke or a Yang joke. There hadn't been many jokes in the Xiao-Long/Rose household lately. Yang had spent the last few months afraid. Afraid of loud noises. Afraid of her dreams. Afraid of the man who had defeated her without any effort, back when Yang still thought she was invincible. Dragon turned to mouse in one second. Yang was home. Dad was there to take care of her, protect her. It felt warm. It felt safe. Yang never wanted to go out in the cold again. She knew that the moment she would attach that piece of metal to the remains of her arm, people would think that she was all right again, that the Dragon was back, that she was itching to go out fighting again. But Yang wasn't. She was still hiding under the blankets, hoping the world would go away.

Pathetic.

Coward.

Lazy, malingering, useless little girl.

Dad had never said anything like that to her. He hadn't even _not_ said it to her while clearly _thinking_ it. But Yang had. It still wasn't enough to stir her from this pit. She didn't care. She was gone. Blake might have pulled her mangled body out of the fight, but Yang Xiao-Long, Little Dragon of the Sun, had died that night.

But Ruby had not.

Ruby was out there.

Ruby was on her way to Mistral, to Haven Academy, to set the world to rights.

Ruby might not make it.

People were trying to kill Ruby.

Dad should be helping Ruby, not her.

He was not helping Ruby, because of her. 

 

Yang's jaw set. She looked at the clock beside her bed, 01:33 in bright red numbers. She would remember this time, this moment. Yang got up, opened her door, walked into her mother's bedroom. Summer's room, Yang corrected herself. Never changed since the day she went out on a mission and never came back. Never used since she accidentally found herself pregnant with Ruby and pretending not to sleep with Dad became a bit pointless. In the room was a full length mirror on a wooden frame. Yang dragged it out, put it in her own room. That done, she turned on her bedside lamp, giving her just enough light.

Yang sat down on her bed, kicked off her shoes, pulled the elastic band from her hair and let it fall in a waterfall of gold on her back. She pulled off her top. Undid her belt, letting it slip out completely rather than keep it on the final hole so it would be easier to put it back on again. She dropped her pants to the floor and stepped out of them. Then, she walked to the mirror, stopped, looked at herself.

Her legs were long, strong, muscled from years of martial arts training and running. Details showed Yang that she hadn't been training as she ought, but the strength was still there. Wide hips. Flat stomach, likewise out of practice but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Large heavy breasts, light brown nipples that she'd considered putting piercings in a while back, but held off. Until recently, her breasts were the first thing people noticed about her. Sometimes the only thing. Yang certainly didn't try to hide them. If you have it, show it. But those days were over. The first thing people noticed about her these days, was the stump of her arm. Most of the time, it was the only thing they noticed. Yang had turned from a woman to be desired to a woman to be pitied.

Yang's eyes moved to her right. The bandages were gone. The wounds had healed. There was only a dust cover for the metal attachment and neural interface that the hospital had put in as a matter of routine. Yang tensed up her right bicep, what was left of it. It was still strong, but it didn't have any purpose. Yang looked up into her eyes in the mirror, looking for changes. The laughter had gone from them. To Yang of Old, the whole world was a joke, even... no _especially_ the serious bits. Things can seem funny when they're not happening to you.

Yang turned her eyes away from the mirror. Things were about to happen, not to her, but to Little Sis. But _not_ while Dad or Yang could do something about it. Yang knew that she was far, far from invincible, but the least she could do was get in the way of a hit aimed at Ruby. Yang stepped over to her chest of drawers. She picked up the sheet of paper tucked underneath the Thing and read. Yang was too young to appreciate how short it was, how much science had advanced through the years. Simply connect it, start it up, wave.

Yang skimmed the warnings, then dropped the paper. She picked up the Thing. It felt heavy. Heavier than her own arm? How heavy was an arm anyway? How would you weigh it? She sneered. Well, you chop it off, obviously. Yang tossed the Thing in the air to change her grip on it, then walked back to the mirror. She tucked it under her right arm, pulled off the dust cover. Then, she took a firm grip, and looked herself in the eyes for a moment.

"I love you too, Ruby Rose," she said. 

 

Yang pressed the socket of the arm over the metal part sticking out of her shoulder. There were several clicks as clamps engaged and pulled the connection tight. A tremor went through the Thing as it turned itself on. In short, fast steps, the arm bent until it could bend no further, and Yang had to hold it away from her to avoid hitting herself in the face. The arm straightened itself, with the same jarring motion that sent vibrations into Yang's very bones. Next, the arm bent itself, slowly, smoothly, Then once more, fast. As Yang watched, wide-eyed, unable to control any of this, the hand started turning round, making a full rotation in short steps, then smoothly, and in the normal range for a human hand. One by one, the fingers closed and opened. All the fingers together closed, opened, closed into a fist. The thumb stuck out, and the arm gave Yang a thumbs-up. Yang stared at it, and suddenly laughed. Someone in the Arm Department in Atlas had a sense of humor.

She started moving the arm before she even realised she was doing it, looking at the fingers, moving them, looking at the back of the hand. She ran her fingers over the smooth metal, and didn't feel a thing of course. The Thing had no skin. She touched her face with it. The metal felt cool against her cheek. Suddenly, Yang giggled, reached behind her, and for the first time in six, seven months, scratched her butt. Since she came home, she had learnt so many little tricks. So many times, she had absent-mindedly reached for things with her right arm only to find it didn't work. She had spent hours learning to tie her shoelaces with one hand, from a video on her scroll. She'd had to learn again how to dress herself, wash herself, wash her hair. So many things that she'd taken for granted when she had two arms. Each of them a reminder of her failure, of her defeat.

Yang looked up at herself in the mirror. Her eyes narrowed as she raised her fists, _both_ fists. She grinned at herself. Her metal arm would _still_ be the first thing anyone would notice about her, and the thought oddly pleased her. The smile turned into a scowl, and she threw a punch at her reflection, the metal knuckles stopping just short of the mirror. Teeth bare, she spread both her arms, and knocked her fists together. One hurt. One didn't feel a thing. A brief shimmer of red flashed through her eyes.

"Hold on, Sis. I'm coming for you." 

 

Yang turned round, pulled her brown pyjamas from under her pillow, pulled them on using both her arms this time. She lay down, pulled the blanket over her. Her metal hand was next to her on the pillow. The hand and fingers made small clicking noises as she moved them. Yang wondered how strong those fingers would be. This was an Atlas mil-spec prosthetic. The answer was most likely "very". She'd have to spend a little time getting used to her new limb. And then?

Yang was still a frightened little girl, alone in bed, in a faraway corner of the world, away from all the struggle and bloodshed.

But she wasn't going to _stay_ that way.

Yang Xiao Long closed her eyes, and slept, and dreamt, not of Adam Taurus, but of her sister. 

* * *

 

Taiyang picked up the watering can, and sprayed the sunflowers next to the house. Soon now, he would have to start breakfast, wake up Yang, and get her to eat it. She would pull through. It was only a matter of time. Next to him, he heard the door open, and his daughter came walking out, looking up, shielding her eyes from the sun with...

Taiyang's heart leapt within him. Yang looked at him, her face completely blank.

"Okay," said Taiyang. "Let's get started." 


End file.
